Spilled The Beans
by FrankMustGetHurtSomehow
Summary: Frank's uncle always threatened that if anyone found out about the abuse that was happening to Frank and Joe, whoever told would have their brother kidnapped, tortured, and killed. When Joe accidently spills the beans, what will happen to Frank?
1. You're Under Arrest!

Title: Up For Adoption

Author: Please Kidnap Frank

Summary: Fenton looses custody of his children. Why? What did Fenton do wrong? Or was it really Fenton? Who has been hurting the two Hardy boys, and why are they to scared to talk about it?

A/N: The Hardys do _not_ live in Bayport in this one. They live in a much poorer neighborhood. Also I have nothing against cops. Or Social Services.

This also reflects something that happened to a friend of mine. So please be patient when you review. No, not everything is exactly how it happened, but that's how I got the idea.

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Most people would wonder why someone would be crazy enough to hate Sundays, but Frank knew why he hated them. He hated them because his uncle came to visit. Oh, how he hated his uncle.

He _really, really, really_ hated his uncle. So did Joe. His uncle was loud-mouthed, fowl, and abusive. He was always hitting Frank and Joe for something they did wrong (they could _never_ do anything right because they were so 'worthless'), or getting drunk and getting the neighbors in an uproar. One day they'd even had the cops called on them and their uncle had been locked up for a month for disorderly conduct. It was the best month of Frank's life.

Frank's parents, Fenton and Laura, had no idea what was really going on. They left every Sunday to visit Laura's mother, and had Fenton's brother, Jesse, watch the kids. If they saw that Frank or Joe had a bruise (which was rare), they'd would quickly make an excuse. Having no reason to believe Jesse (or someone else) was abusing the boys, both Fenton and Laura believed all of their excuses, much to Frank and Joe's disbelief.

Both Frank and Joe were too scared to tell anyone what was going on, but knew that it was only a matter of time before Frank could sue for custody of Joe and leave this place. He didn't want to stay in the same place, even if his dad knew about Jesse. (So what? He wouldn't care. That was what Jesse always said.)

Frank couldn't wait. He was only 16, now, but in two years, he could sue for custody of Joe, and _both_ of them could leave.

"Joe!" Frank called. "Come on, we have to get the dishes going!" He shook his head and sighed. Joe never liked to get out of bed on Sundays, no matter how much Jesse threatened to beat him up. Frank didn't blame him. They had a list of chores Jesse expected them to get done. Frank suspected, though, that Jesse didn't care about the chores. He cared about getting a reason to hurt them.

"_JOE_!" Frank yelled. He gave up and started loading the dishwasher himself. Sometimes it was just quicker to do things himself then to drag Joe out of bed and make him do it. Maybe it wasn't exactly fair, but what was fair anymore? Frank hadn't known fair since he was six years old. He remembered when he was six very clearly.

"JOESEPH ALEX HARDY, GET OUT OF BED RIGHT NOW!" Jesse yelled, and Frank winced. Jesse had gotten out of bed. Shoot. If Frank didn't get this dishwasher loaded, he was going to be in big trouble. Jesse wanted the sink clean before he got out of bed, if not sooner.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Frank glanced worriedly at his uncle, who was now standing in the kitchen. _Had his uncle invited somebody over? _The last time his uncle had invited someone over, Frank had been sent to the hospital. When his mother had asked what had happened, his uncle had simply said Frank and Joe were roughhousing. (He had left out the part where his friend had taken a belt and beaten Frank to a pulp.) Not only had he managed to send Frank to the hospital, he'd managed to get Frank grounded for a whole month. None of the doctors even suspected abuse… Supposedly. Frank suspected someone had gotten paid off. (

His uncle opened the door, surprised to see ten officers and a social worker's car parked at the curb. He glanced at them nervously. "Can I help you?" he asked, smiling as usual when he was talking to anyone other then Frank or Joe.

"Where are Frank and Joe Hardy?" the officer asked. Frank glanced at Joe, who shrugged. Frank mouthed, _"Did you call the police?" _and Joe mouthed back, "_No, did you_?" Frank shrugged and glanced at them.

"Who wants to know?" Jesse snapped. He suddenly became angry. "And what are you doing on my door anyway officer? Don't you know it's nine o'clock a.m.? Can't a man get some decent sleep around here, for cryin' out loud?"

"The police," the policeman said, unfazed. (It should have been obvious that he was a policeman, what with twelve police cars, more then a dozen policemen with him, and a uniform.) "We have an order to remove Frank and Joe Hardy from this home under orders from Social Services."

"We're Frank and Joe Hardy, sir," Frank said, not really sure what was going on. He glanced at Joe, who looked at him nervously.

"You'll need to come with us," the officer said. "We have an order from Social Services to take you out of this home."

"No, you don't!" their uncle yelled, grabbing Frank by the arm and slamming him to the ground. "These are my kids!" Frank gasped, trying to get some air into his lungs. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TAKE THEM FROM FENTON AND LAURA'S HOUSE!"

Wait… _These are my kids… What did that mean!?_

Before Frank knew what was going on, Jesse was in handcuffs and he and Joe were being escorted to the social worker's car. "What's going on, bro?" Frank whispered as they were left in there while the police officers were trying to arrest Jesse.

"I don't know," Joe said. "Did you call Social Services?"

"Nope," Frank said. He glanced back outside. "Did you?"

"No way. You think I have a death wish? This is going to be bad enough as it is. He's gonna kill us," Joe muttered. Both brothers were warned constantly that if anyone found out about abuse, they would be taken someplace remote, tortured, and then killed. Since both brothers knew Jesse was fully capable of it, they never breathed a word, not even to their parents.

Suddenly, the door opened and another man stepped into the car. Frank wondered if this was a trap, and if anything they said would be breathed would be said to his uncle. He nudged Joe and gave him a look that said _be quiet. _Joe nodded. This wasn't the first time they'd been in a position like this.

"What's going on?" Joe finally dared to ask. We were on our way to the hospital now. I could tell.

The man didn't say anything, he just drove. Frank glanced at Joe, and both of the brothers fell silent, wondering what was next. Were they really getting rescued, or was this one of Jesse's traps?

_Guess we'll find out, _Frank thought as the hospital sped by in the rear view mirror.

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A/N: If you are a little confused, I'm sorry. I've also edited this chapter since posting.


	2. Foster Care

CHAPTER 2

UP FOR ADOPTION

AUTHOR – PLZ KIDNAP FRANK

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Frank glared at the man who was escorting him and his brother to the social worker building. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew it wasn't going to be good. His uncle had repeatedly told Frank and Joe that should they choose to breathe a word to anyone, they'd most likely be split into two different foster homes, because nobody would want to take them together. He hadn't added "like the two worthless brats you are," but both Frank and Joe knew it.

There was one other thing their uncle had repeatedly drilled into their heads: should they choose to tell on him, he'd know which one told and then he'd kidnap the other one and torture them before grabbing the other one. Since Frank knew he was fully capable of it, he never breathed a word about it to anyone, especially to his parents. He didn't want Joe to get hurt anymore then he already had. It was his fault this whole thing had happened.

It all started the first Sunday morning his uncle had come to baby-sit them. Frank was 6; Joe was 5. Frank was drinking orange juice when the cup slipped, fell down, and hit the floor. The glass broke. Before Frank realized what happened, his uncle had him down on the ground and was slamming his face against the ground, shouting about how much of a mess-up he was.

"What's happening?" Joe dared to ask. When they'd been taken from the house, Frank had already been fully dressed and was wearing his shoes, but Joe hadn't had time to get any on. He was wearing blue jeans, and Red Sox T-shirt, but no shoes.

"You guys are being yanked from the custody of Fenton and Laura Hardy. We got an anonymous tip that someone was abusing the two of you. We went to check it out, and when your uncle assaulted Frank in front of the officers, they put him under arrest. We'll need your full cooperation with this investigation."

"Why did you yank us out of the home?" Joe demanded. Frank shot his brother a look that said _cool it. _

"Your uncle abused your brother in front of the police officer. There's no telling what's been going on behind closed doors." He escorted them to a room and left the brothers alone to talk it over.

"Nice going, Frank," Joe muttered. "Did you call the cops?"

"No! I ain't got a death wish either," Frank whispered, glancing nervously out the door. "Hey, foster care's probably gonna be a lot worse then being smacked a few times every Sunday, ya'know?"

"Do you think they'll put us in foster care?" Joe whispered.

"I don't know. They seem so sure Jesse's doing it. But we can't confirm it, so they just might put us there, especially if Dad does something stupid, like blow up at the cops," Frank whispered back. "Look, Joe, if they put you somewhere and somebody starts askin', ya'know, nosing around, tell them it was Jesse who abused us."

"But he'll kidnap you!" Joe whispered, glaring at the officers who were watching them form the door. "He said he'd kidnap whoever didn't tell so we knew darn well to keep our mouth shut!"

"This is all my fault," Frank whispered, "for the abuse, so it doesn't really matter… So just tell whoever it is, if you think you can trust them."

The door swung open and a social worker entered the room. Both Frank and Joe glanced at each other, wondering what was going to happen next. 

"We know Jesse was abusing you," the social worker said. "He's under arrest for child abuse right now, based on what the officer seen."

Frank swallowed. "It wasn't his fault, s-sir. I'm the one who got in his way."

The social worker stared at Frank in disbelief. "It doesn't matter if you got in his way, Frank. He had no right to hit you, to slam you to the ground. That was abuse, no matter what caused it. What happened to your arm, Frank?" he asked.

Frank glanced at it and shrugged. Although he knew full well what happened, he wasn't about to tell. That was last Sunday's scar. His uncle had been angry because the dishes weren't all in the dishwasher when he checked, and he threw one on the floor, breaking it to pieces. He had then picked up a jagged piece and cut Frank's arm. "Who made the claim of child abuse?" Frank demanded.

"It was an anonymous tip," the officer said with a shrug. "Either way, until you guys tell us who was abusing you, we're going to have to put you in foster care. Was Jesse abusing you?"

"N-no," Frank lied, stuttering. He hadn't been prepared for that question to come up. "H-he n-n-ever hit me." _At least not for something I didn't deserve, _Frank added silently in his head.

"He never hit you?" the social worker demanded. He stood up in the chair. He was 6'2, a full five inches taller then Frank. "What about the incident in front of the police? What do you call that?"

"I deserved that, I told you!" Frank said. He swung open the door and slammed it shut, leaving the social worker staring at him in bewilderment.

"He hit Frank more," Joe said, glancing at Frank, who was outside, taking advantage of the punching bag they had next to the door.

"_Who_ hit him more?" the social worker asked. "Look, Joe, may I call you Joe, your father, Fenton, is the prime suspect for abuse as of right now. Until we can confirm our suspicions, Jesse's under arrest."

"You can't do that," Joe protested. "My mom and dad will be really tweaked, man!"

"Joe, there's nothing else we can do. The environment you are in is unstable. Jesse being in charge of you and Frank is not good. He assaulted Frank in front of a police officer. I think Frank's lying by saying he's never been abused – and especially just from what you told me."

"Frank gets hit all the time," Joe said. "He says it's Frank's fault, so what Frank _means_ is, if he gets hit, he deserves it."

The social worker sighed and placed his hands on his head. "Joe, we're going to have to place you two into foster care."

"You can't do that," Joe protested. "We _like_ where we're living."

The social worker left the room and Frank came back in. "He's gonna put us in foster care, isn't he?" Frank demanded.

"Yeah," Joe said.

Frank pounded his fist on the desk. "How did anyone find out?" he whispered. "We were so freaking careful!"

"I don't know."

The social worker came back. "You're lucky, there are two homes that always accept teen boys…"

"Two homes?" Frank demanded.

"No way," Joe shouted. "We're not being separated."

"We generally do have to separate people. I'm sorry, but there aren't very many homes willing to foster two boys at once on such short notice," the social worker said.

Frank glared at him. "Then just put us back home with our parents," he snapped as the worker walked out of the room.

"They'll be here to pick you up within the hour," he replied. "Enjoy."

"Shoot," Joe said. "Shoot, shoot, shoot. This is crap."


	3. Goodbye

Frank gave Joe a hug goodbye and whispered, "You know how to contact me, if I get to use a computer," before Joe's foster parents took him away. They looked nice. The lady apologized for not being able to take in Frank, too, but said, "We already have five kids, but we wanted to help out somehow."

Five kids? Frank didn't envy Joe one bit. He hoped they would be nice to Joe, and he hoped they'd be trustworthy, too. (He also hoped that they'd get him new shoes.) He was wondering, though, when his foster parents would get here. When the social worker walked by, and he said, "How long until they get here?"

The social worker shrugged. "They live out in the country. About thirty minutes away. They'll be here enough."

"Yeah, where nobody can hear me scream, right?" Frank spat. He glared at the man who shrugged and walked back to his desk. He got up and paced the room, glancing nervously at the social worker, who was on the phone, talking to someone. The office was unusually busy, but it was Sunday, and it was pretty late (seven o'clock.) Suddenly, the door opened, and Frank glanced up. Two men stood there, one smiling, and the other one looking like he couldn't stand being there.

The social worker hung up the phone. "Hello, James, Circe," he said. "What's up?"

"Not much. Kids are fine," James said with a grin. Frank's stomach sunk. He knew things were about to get much worse for him. He didn't know how, but he just knew. "Is this the kid?" he asked.

"Yup. He's just in foster care. He isn't up for adoption – yet," the social worker said. "He's Hardy's kid."

"Ooooh, Hardy's kid," the one called Circe said. "Well, thanks, Ben. We'll be leaving now."

"Cya later," Ben said. "Take good care of him, ya hear?"

"Will do," James called.

Frank walked out the door with the two men. He wondered how someone had found out about the abuse. He had no idea, except one of them had accidentally given something away. But what? He had been very careful. He sometimes skipped school on Monday when the bruises were too much; always faking a "stomachache" or a "sore throat." Maybe Joe had said something by mistake.

"This is the car," James said as he walked outside. It was a pretty new van – it looked like it had about fifteen seats in it, though. Circe noticed him looking and said, "You have six siblings – Marc, Alex, Danny, Ryan, Peter, and David. Marc and David are brothers."

_Then why wouldn't you accept me and Joe together? _Frank thought. But if these men were abusive as Frank suspected, he didn't want Joe living here. Joe deserved the very best, and was one of the few reasons why Frank was still living. He had actually saved Frank's life during a gunfight, but that's not what he meant. Some days, usually Sundays, Frank would wake up, depressed, and then Joe would undoubtedly doing something weird, and cheer him up.

After the drive, Frank glanced at them. "Do you live together?" he asked.

"Yeah," James said. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"If you do, I'll whip your but," Circe said. "Don't get any funny ideas."

"We better not let him talk to the social worker. He might give the social worker some ideas," James said.

"What Ben don't know won't hurt him," Circe replied.

Frank's face paled, and all his energy completely drained. He followed them meekly inside. When he got inside, glanced around and noted that there was nobody running around the premises. "Where is everyone?" he asked.

"In their rooms," Circe said, "Where you will be shortly. You get your own room. It's pretty small. We have already eaten supper for tonight, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow for that. There will be no computer privileges here. If you try and run away your punishment will be very, very painful, do you understand?" He grabbed Frank by the arm, and Frank nodded. He knew better then to disrespect authority.

As he led Frank upstairs, Frank looked around. There were about ten bedrooms on that floor alone. They could have easily taken Joe if they wanted to. Circe opened the door to Frank's room and said, "Well, here we are!"

Frank's mouth dropped open. It was very small. There was a bed and a light, and that was it. There was no spare space except enough where he could walk to the door. He suspected that the other rooms were the same way.

"Take this," Circe directed him, opening a bottle. Frank looked at it nervously. Circe had handed him one pill.

"What's this do?" Frank whispered.

"It makes it so you feel pain but you can't move," James said, smirking. "We wouldn't want you to run away on your first night, now would we?" he asked, slamming the pill into Frank's mouth. Frank coughed, choking on it.

The two men left the room, locking it behind them. Frank glanced at the door, unable to move, and still wondering what would happen next.

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A/N: Yeah, I edited the chapter. Please continue to review.


	4. A Murder And A Kidnapping

Joe looked out the window at the center behind him. He was afraid he'd accidentally said something about the abuse, or dropped a clue, somewhere. If that was true, Frank was dead meat. He sat nervously in the car, wondering where he was going and hoping Frank's parents were nice.

"We're here," his new foster dad said a few minutes later. He looked out at the window. It was a small house, and toys were everywhere on the front lawn. It looked like he was going to be living with _little_ kids.

"Andrea is age 5. Jonah is age 7. Marsha is age 9. Steve is age 13. Danny is age 15," the woman said. "Please call me Sally, Aunt Sally, or whatever you feel comfortable with."

_Paint me purple and color me surprised… These people actually seem nice_, Joe thought as he looked at the lawn. Someone age 15? He was going to be the oldest? Hmmm, maybe this wouldn't be too bad…

"It's just about time for dinner," Sally said. "Come on. You can help finish it," she said. "It won't be hard. We're having pizza. Do you like pizza?"

Joe nodded, and followed her inside. He remembered what Frank had said last to him _If you like your people, and think you can trust them, then tell them… I don't care what happens to me._ But Joe did. He knew Jesse was all too capable of keeping his promises.

Joe knew that Frank was very depressed. Frank had confessed to him once that he felt like killing himself. Joe had been able to talk him out of it, but Frank refused to tell his parents and get some help – "because I'd have to tell them why." He hoped Frank had nice parents, because otherwise he was going to kill himself. Joe just knew it, and the thought of his own brother committing suicide made him want to cry. Their uncle had destroyed their lives.

"Joe, will you please set eight places on the table?" she asked. Joe nodded and glanced around for the plates. When he saw them, he started putting the plates on the table. "Where's your glasses?" he asked.

"Next to the plates, the other door," she said as she started putting the pizza on the plates. Joe opened it and took eight out, setting the table. As he finished setting the table, Sally continued to dish out the food and the drinks. At exactly five o'clock, everyone came and sat down.

"Let's say grace," Chris said as he bowed his head for supper.

_Oh, no… not a religious family… _Joe thought.

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Frank was having trouble sleeping. He guessed the drug had something to do with that. He didn't even have enough energy to roll over, much less try and run away. His whole body ached, and he was exhausted. He glanced at the clock at his bedside. It read 10 o'clock PM. It felt like a lot later then that. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he couldn't.

His door opened. Frank tried to raise his head to look at it, but he couldn't. The drug had totally immobilized him. He looked up at the face that hovered over his bed. It was Circe. Frank gulped.

"I see you're still awake," Circe said. "We're going to have to do something about that." He grinned evilly. "You'll still be required to wake up at six, just like everyone else."

_Six AM?_ Frank thought. _No way._ He opened his mouth to protest, but his voice didn't work. Circe grinned and looked at the door. Then he turned back to Frank. "The social service agency said you're sixteen. When you wake up you will be required to type eight papers for me before you'll be able to eat breakfast. Do you understand?"

Frank groaned. He couldn't move or talk. How did Circe think he was supposed to answer his question?

"I said do you understand?" Circe shouted, grabbing his head and slamming it against the bed. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Circe yelled, grabbing his leg and throwing him off the bed. Frank moaned in pain but still couldn't answer.

Circe growled and kicked Frank in the ribs with his steel-toed boots before he left the room and slammed the door. Frank wondered how long it would be before he was able to move.

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_---thenextday---_

Fenton glared at the police officer. "Do you think I would abuse my sons? Hell no! You just said you saw Jesse abuse Frank in front of the police officer. I want my sons back, right now, or I'm going to sue you for slander, and false charges!"

"You were the one who left your sons with Jesse. You don't even seem mad that your sons are gone, you just seem mad about the charges. If I release them into your custody now, there's no telling what will happen." 

"OF COURSE I'M MAD!" Fenton screamed at the officer. "YOU'RE FALSELY ARRESTING JESSE, LAURA AND ME! WOULDN'T YOU BE MAD IF YOU WERE FALSLEY ARRESTED?" he hollered.

The officer sighed. "Look, we'll be sending someone to talk to both of your boys. Depending on what they say, we'll decide how long until they're released into your custody."

Fenton glared at the officer before flipping out his cell phone and calling his lawyer. He needed one, fast.

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Joe glanced at the door of his bedroom he was sharing with Steven. He wondered if he could trust these people. It was already eight thirty, but he was waiting until he was called. He didn't have any idea how this family operated, but he still wanted to talk to them about his uncle. He didn't want to get Frank in trouble though. _'maybe Dad can put Frank in protective custody,' _he thought.

He glanced as someone knocked on the door and opened it. "Joseph? Your social worker is here, and he'd like to talk to you," Chris said. Joe followed him downstairs.

"What did I do wrong?" Joe asked as Chris quietly closed the door of the study.

"Nothing, Joe," Ben reassured him. "But we need to talk. You guys don't really need to stay in foster care. But, we do need to know who was hurting you and your brother… I may have… I may have potentially put him in a bad situation," Ben admitted.

Joe glanced up. "What?" he gasped.

"Frank… His parents, well… I went to their house this morning, but I found it packed up. Frank was missing, but the other kids were there."

"What about his parents?"

Ben took a deep breath. "James and Circe were murdered."

Joe's mouth dropped open. "M-mmurdered?" Joe stuttered.

"Joe, I need you to tell me. Whoever it is… We need to get you away from here, pronto. I'm scared that whoever took Frank is coming after you."

_Dang it. He already took Frank_. "It was my uncle," Joe said, stuttering. "M-my uncle, he must've been the one to take Frank! He said if anyone told, he'd kidnap and kill the other one, too!" Joe panicked. "This… He… He… DAMMIT!" he shouted.

"Calm down," Ben said. "Come on. I think your uncle is still in jail. Let's go get Fenton and Laura and talk to them. I'm moving all three of you to protective custody… Now."

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A/N: Changed a few things in chapter one and three to make it more understandable. Hope you like. Please R&R.


	5. Twelve Days

A/N: Thanks for all the kind reviews. Hardyboyfansrock, I love your review – it's so true. Thanks everyone! Terry, no offence, -- just wanted you to know. Hope everyone continues to review…

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_PREVIOUS DAY…_

"Let me go!" Frank shouted at Circe. "You know this is against the law for freak's sake."

"Don't give me all that law crap," Circe growled. "You will listen to me and James and you **will** not disrespect us. You understand?" He demanded, ending each word with a kick to Frank's ribs.

Frank muttered something under his breath, and then said, "You don't deserve my respect."

That was all it took. Circe grabbed Frank's arm and slammed him into the wall. "Didn't they teach you any manners where you came from?" he asked. "James, get out here. This sonofagun needs some manners taught."

Suddenly, the front door swung open, but it wasn't James. It was a man wielding a gun, and he pointed it at Circe. "You're a dead man," he said, and shot Circe three times in the head. Each bullet fired directly at his head hit, and he fell flat on the floor, dead.

Frank whimpered as the man came closer, pointing the gun directly at him. "Don't worry, I'm only here for you," the man said. "Where's James? I'm supposed to murder him, too."

James was just coming down the stairs and the man fired two shots at James's stomach. Frank gagged at all the blood. He tried to struggle, but the man overpowered him in two seconds. "You're coming with me, like it or not," the man said, injecting something in Frank's neck. Within seconds, Frank was asleep.

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"Joe!" Laura yelled as she saw Joe. She crushed him in a bear hug and then said, "What's going on? What's happening?"

"I d-d-d-on't know," Joe wailed. "He has Frank, mom. Jesse took Frank."

"Well, if he did that, he's the greatest Houdini I've ever seen," Ben said. "Jesse's been in jail since he was arrested Sunday. The murders took place Tuesday, and now it's Wednesday. The FBI has gotten involved, and let's just say Circe and James were no saints. The only thing I don't get is why Frank is missing. Jesse's in jail, so I don't thin it's him."

"Unless Jesse paid someone off. He'd be willing to do that. If he somehow found out that I spilled the beans, he's gonna kill Frank," Joe whispered.

"The FBI are on there way. They have protective custody ready for you, Fenton and your mom," Ben said.

"Thank you so much," Laura said.

"It's the least I can do," Ben said. "I knew Circe and James weren't exactly on the up and up, but not many people want to adopt teenagers."

"I wonder exactly how much not on the up and up they were," Laura mused.

"We won't know unless Frank can talk about it," Joe whispered.

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Frank awoke in the trunk of a stranger's car. He had no idea what was happening. All he knew was that Circe and James were murdered, and then he was drugged. After that he had no idea of what happened. He guessed he'd been stuffed here.

The man who had murdered Circe and James was wearing a mask. He was about a full foot taller then Frank (around seven feet, Frank thought). He could overpower Frank in an instant (he'd learned that very well.)

"This is so great," Frank muttered. Things couldn't possibly get worse. Could they? Maybe they could.

Suddenly, the lid of the trunk opened and the man who was there glared at him. "You should be sleeping," he said, injecting the drug in Frank's neck. "Within a few days, you won't be causing any trouble."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked groggily.

"What I mean is that this – this drug is controlling. Within twelve days, you will be too weak to be able to escape. That's when I'll break Jesse out of jail."

Frank's mouth dropped open. "Please, no! You can't! He'll kill me!"

"Well, that was sort of the point of kidnapping you. Except first we'll grab Joe. Joe was the idiot who told about the child abuse, although it was not deliberately."

Frank passed out at that moment, but his last thought was, _this is so not good…_

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	6. So Nice To Meet You

A/N: I'm glad you're all enjoying my story.

To "Comewhentruthcalls", my name reflects _my_ writing. Way too many of the stories in here are romance, but there are some good ones about Joe. Check out Jolly001's story called _Growing Pains._ It is very good Joe angst. As for my name, I think it's funny. Heh… Heh… How come Frank's not laughing? Anyway, glad you're enjoying the story.

To Tish: Maybe you could recommend some stories to "Comewhentruthcalls", then. I agree, Squwishington Baldwin's stories are _excellent. _

Thanks to everyone else's reviews.

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Frank awoke in a dark closet. He glanced around. The room wasn't very big. It was barely big enough for him. There was no room around him, and from his cramped position, he couldn't reach the doorknob. He couldn't reach up and stretch, either. There was something on top of him, blocking his progress. But what? Maybe… A shelf? What the heck?

He really hoped that the man wasn't working for Jesse, but doubted it. He mentally debated, and decided he'd really rather be with Circe and James right now, if he had a choice. At least there he wasn't likely to be killed.

He'd gotten two people killed. Someone had killed two people, just to get him. Granted, they weren't very _likeable_ people, but they had been killed because of him. The door swung open, and a masked face appeared.

"Time to give you another dose of injection," the man said with a smirk. "But first, a bit of what's going to happen. Firstly, I am holding you here until we can break Jesse out without it looking too suspicious that I'm involved. You can find out who I am later. Next. If you try and escape, you will be knocked unconscious and you won't get any food for the next three days. By the way, I'm not feeding you anything until we get all of this drug into your system, but you can have something to drink. Here, take this," he said, handing Frank a glance of water. Frank glanced at it warily before he drowned the entire thing.

"Sleepy time," the masked man said as he injected the drug once again into Frank's neck. This time Frank only had time to register the door closing before he fell victim to unconsciousness.

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"It's all my fault and I know it!" Joe yelled at Fenton. "Stop rubbing it in! I'm _sorry_! I _forgot_ Frank was your favorite and I obviously _forgot_ that you don't give a shit that I was abused too, and I obviously _forgot_ that you hate me!" he screamed, storming upstairs.

Fenton caught Joe by the tail of his shirt. "Joseph, you're blowing this entire thing out of proportion. I know you got abused, and I _do_ 'give a shit about it'. And I _do_ love you. Sit. I need to show you something."

Joe sat on the couch, glaring at Fenton as he went to go get something from upstairs. "He _hates_ me anyway," he muttered, glaring at the door, getting ready to run if he needed too.

"This is what I wanted to show you," Fenton said, opening up the box. It contained his birth certificate, certifying that his parents were Laura and Fenton Hardy. Joe pulled out the other one, Frank's.

"You've got to be flipping kidding me…" Joe said, his mouth dropping open in shock. _Frank Hardy, Son Of Jennie and Jesse Hardy. _

"That's sick," Joe said. "Who is Jennie?" he demanded.

"Jennie is Jesse's wife. She was killed in a car wreck on the way home from the hospital. Accident reports showed that Jesse was driving drunk at the time."

Joe's mouth dropped open in a big "o" shape as he said, "D-dad… This isn't over the orange juice, isn't it?"

"The orange juice?" Fenton asked, confused. "What orange juice?"

"J-Jesse started abusing us when Frank dropped a glass of OJ. Jesse was really mad that he had to clean it up, and he… hurt Frank really bad," Joe said. "Frank's always felt like it was his fault.

Fenton sighed. "Laura and I got custody because of our relationship to Jesse. At the time, Jesse was sentenced to five years in jail and he wasn't allowed to see you until after he got counseling because of his drinking problem."

"Somehow I don't think the counseling helped," Joe muttered. "He still _has_ a drinking problem, Dad. He just takes it out on Frank now." Joe looked sheepishly at the floor. "Dad… This is all my fault… isn't it?"

"No, Joe. It's not your fault. It is Jesse's fault and Jesse's alone that he hit you and Frank. We are working around the clock to make sure that man doesn't get out of prison. Right now, Ezra's trying to figure out if the hit was on Circe and James, or if they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Why did Ben let Circe and James adopt people if he knew they had a habit of abuse?" Joe asked.

"I guess Ben thought his actions were justified because there weren't many homes for teens," Fenton said with a shrug. "At any rate the teens are going to be interviewed later, seems a few of them were in the room next to Frank when he was kidnapped. They're being… I don't know, actually, now. I should be over there doing the interviews."

"Can I go with you?" Joe asked, giving his father his ever-infamous puppy dog stare.

"You can go with me but I'm doubtful that you'll be able to go into the interviews," Fenton warned.

Joe nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

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"I got the boy," the man said to Jesse. They were in the state prison and whispering because Jesse was taking no chances. "Circe and James were disposed of. There are no witnesses."

"Good," Jesse whispered back. "Make sure you leave him alone, Pete. He's _my_ punching bag."

"Don't worry, I am," Pete said. "He's getting enough water to survive, but I'm not giving him anything to eat until he's got the twelve days of drug in his system."

"What day are you on?" Jesse asked.

"Day two. I'm giving him an injection every seven hours, just like you said too."

"Good," Jesse said. "Let the games begin."


End file.
